My Warden (COMPLETED)

Surprise

This is madness. I shouldn't be here. Cullen repeated the thought while watching a drunkard attempt to open the door to the Hanged Man, except the man missed by about six feet and was currently yanking upon the shutters. Either he would abandon hope, or climb in through the window. Cullen felt naked without his templar armor, having scrounged through a found box for a worn tunic and a disquieting pair of pants. How long had it been since he last wore them? The tug across this thighs felt a fresh betrayal of the order with each pace. He should abandon this foolish plan, return to the Gallows, to his room, and forget that he even saw her.

It wasn't the first time he found an unexpected woman waiting for him in his room. The initial one was a prank from some of the other templars, which still gave him a headache to think upon. They paid one of the lady's from the brothel to sneak into the Knight-Captain's quarters and wait for him. When he confronted them later they insisted it was a gift, but as Cullen tried to get her to leave without melting through the floor, the Knight-Commander happened to walk by. Pure coincidence of course, there was no possible way the conspirators had anything to do with her interference. By the Maker's mercy, Meredith drew almost no attention to the half-naked woman sitting upon his bed. She only said that whatever she came for could wait for another time, and then gently reminded him of the visitor policy.

The next time Cullen opened his door late at night and saw the silhouette of a woman outlined by the waning moonlight, he would not be taken by unawares. Sighing, he shook his head, and mumbled, "I am sorry, but you've been brought here under false pretenses. I have no interest in any of your, um, talents."

"Oh? That's a shame, I do have many." The mystery woman turned to face him and Cullen's knees gave out. If it weren't for the table he hooked an elbow on, his body would have smashed to the ground. Six years took a toll on those from Ferelden, no one involved in the blight escaped its wrath unscathed, but she still radiated an ethereal glow beyond a mortal beauty. Even before she became everyone's hero, Cullen couldn't take his eyes off a vibrancy that floated off her. By the lone candle flickering on his desk, Cullen could only see the supple cheek risen in a cocky smile and one eye glittering in mischief.

"I...you, no. I can explain. There was a prank that, um..." he stampeded through a thousand different explanations while rubbing his hands across the desk that saved him. Maker, how were his gloves already dripping with sweat?

She only smiled and placed a delicate hand upon her soft hip, drawing his attention to a form he should not reflect upon. "A prank? Must have been interesting."

"It was childish and I...should not be telling, I doubt you care." Sucking in a breath, Cullen steadied himself and asked properly, "What brings you here, Lady Amell?"

Her smile dipped for a moment and she tugged upon her mage robes. They were not the blue and silver of the wardens; she still wore something similar to what was used in the circle though with a silverite sheet of chainmail over top. "I require the help of a templar. Someone in Kirkwall to assist me with a mission."

Cullen nodded, that made sense of a kind, but did not explain why she'd need sneak around to his room like a common bandit to ask for it. People would have greeted her gladly with open arms, especially the mages who held up the Hero of Ferelden as if she was their personal accomplishment. "Do you wish to speak with the Knight-Commander? I can go and get her..." He wanted to kick himself for laying out the option, as if he feared her presence so he needed a chaperon.

Her lips pursed as she glanced around the walls. Lowering her voice, she said, "This is a delicate matter, and I need someone I can trust."

Through the concern at her secrecy, pride swelled in him. She trusted him? Even now after all that occurred at the tower? It seemed too much to believe. "For what purpose?"